I got my back up against the wall (don't need no one to rescue me)
by ibuzoo
Summary: "She never saw him herself. Bet it's a seventy year old pervert with a bald head or perhaps he has some serious disease that disfigured him completely. I once saw a pic about someone without a nose and bloody hell he looked like a snake," Ron ends indignant and Ginny nods while she picks imaginary crumbs off her scarf, adds, "Kinky."


**I got my back up against the wall (don't need no one to rescue me)**

**Prompt: **Beginning

**Rating:** T

**Warnings: **Modern AU / College AU / Harvard and Oxford AU / long-distance relationship / never seen each other before AU

**Word count: **1292

**A/N:** I needed to stop several days with my prompts because I'm not feeling very well the last days and I had to stop at the hospital this weekend because things were getting really bad. Anyways here's the next prompt.

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><p><strong>o.<strong>

**love, (n.)**

It starts…

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><p><strong>i.<strong>

She's in her second semester in Harvard, wears the burgundy and grey with pride and debates with the sharp intellect of long dead philosophers while she shreds argument after argument of her opponents to pieces.

Ron eyes her with the suspicion of a bonobo and Harry stays deadly silent, his eyes big and bug out when he can't follow any thought of her brilliant sharp mind and even sharper tongue - she always feels a bit suspicious of the people who call her the brightest mind of Harvard since the last century but don't want anything to do with her.

When Professor Dr. Remus Lupin gives a lecture about European Mythology and she corrects him three times in the first twenty minutes, the man merely flashes her a little smile that reaches his eyes and she wonders what it means. At the end of the lesson he scribbles a name and an e-mail address on a piece of paper and pushes it her way, tells her that he knows a boy in Oxford who is equally gifted, equally smart and she takes it with a scrutinising glance, scrunches up her nose.

It takes her two hours to write the first draft and four more until she hits send.

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><p><strong>ii.<strong>

It starts with an e-mail address.

_(they discuss different political topics, write about mathematical solutions and book recommendations and after three weeks there's something blooming inside of her, something terrible sickening that makes her stomach turn and toss each time his name flashes brightly in her inbox)_

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><p><strong>iii.<strong>

Her phone chimes with a new incoming message and the smile on her face is genuine and rare, not one out of courtesy when her fingers tap with the rapidness of a cheetah over the shiny touch-screen of her new iPhone.

Ron snarls in her direction while he spoons a triple chocolate ice cream bowl and little crumbs of chocolate-chips linger in the corners of his mouth; they fall onto the table as soon as he starts to grouse and Hermione screws up her nose in disgust and dedicates herself back to the conversation on What's app, ignores it when the ginger murmurs in Harry's direction, "Can't she tell the bloke to piss off? What's the deal with him anyway?"

Harry stays silent, shrugs his shoulders and eats a good portion of his mint ice. There's a flicker of concern in his bright forest eyes but Hermione disregards it and finishes her message.

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><p><strong>iv.<strong>

It starts with a text message.

_(she thinks of him in serendipity, something strangely comforting and familiar like the taste of spearmint that lingers in the back of her mind or the feeling of old books between her fingers and each text message gets more personal, more private and it makes her want to clash her skin wide open and show him her bones and flesh and each sin she ever committed)_

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><p><strong>v.<strong>

"Where's 'Mione?", Harry asks as soon as he returns from the restrooms and his glance wanders from Luna and Neville which are both still buried with their noses in the menu card, to Ginny who writes messages on her phone and regards him with big clueless eyes and finally to Ron who's clearly in a pissed mood, eyes constricted and lips pursed, his face red and strained. The vein on his neck throbs rigid in unison with his pumping blood and he snarls, almost lashes out, "She's out there, on the phone with Mr. Oxford."

Harry turns around and looks out the window, watches his best friend talking and chatting with pinkish cheeks and gleaming caramel eyes while the streetlight casts yellowish-orange shades on her wild mane and suddenly she starts to laugh, throws her head back and its almost, almost as if he could hear her soft crystal clear voice like bells that chime for service on a Sunday morning.

He sits down and blocks Ron's view out of the window.

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><p><strong>vi.<strong>

It starts with a voice.

_(she wonders if Tom has someone like Harry too but it doesn't bother her because they don't understand, no one does in the end because when she hears his voice over the line, dark but clear with a heavy British accent she can't do anything than fall for this man, arms wide open with only the shores to slow down her fall)_

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><p><strong>vii.<strong>

"What does he look like?", Ginny asks out of the blue while the clique sits together in the library, studying for upcoming exams and Harry knows instantly who she's talking about, sighs exasperated as soon as Ron opens his mouth, his delusional jealousy spilling between his lips before Harry can stop it so he leans backwards and tries to concentrate on the text in his book but Ron is persistent, his voice pervasive. "She never saw him herself. Bet it's a seventy year old pervert with a bald head or perhaps he has some serious disease that disfigured him completely. I once saw a pic about someone without a nose and bloody hell he looked like a snake," Ron ends indignant and Ginny nods while she picks imaginary crumbs off her scarf, adds, "Kinky."

He rubs a hand over his face and snaps his book shut.

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><p><strong>viii.<strong>

It starts with a picture.

_(the picture he sends of himself is nearly perfect and she memorises in awe how fine curved eyebrows grace a pale face with a straight aristocratic nose and she wonders if he used mascara to make his eyelashes stand out like Kate Moss right before a professional photoshoot and for the split of a second she thinks this is all some kind of cosmic joke and someone wants to wind her up but then she takes a look at deep storm grey eyes with dabs of royal and steel, takes a deep breath and smiles)_

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><p><strong>ix.<strong>

Harry observes the way Ron's eyes dart around the city street in front of the cinema hesitantly, seeking and he can't stop the knowing smirk on his face as soon as the ginger head turns around to face him, asks distracted, "Do you know where 'Mione is? I thought she wanted to meet with us outside?" "She won't come," Harry replies a tad too mischievous, a tad too gleeful and he pays for his ticket with a twenty bucks bill, waits for the cashier to change his money when he turns around, still the same gloating tone, "She is heading to the airport. Tom is arriving today."

He can see the exact moment when realisation hits his friend because the colour drains from his face and he remains ashen, pale until the blood starts to boil in his system, taints his skin into different shades of purple and red. His hand convulses frantically around his bag of popcorn and when he spits, little drops of saliva land on Harry's cheek, "He won't come. I bet the bastard stands her up!"

A deep sigh leaves Harry's lips as he wipes the saliva of his face before he turns around and enters the cinema hall.

He doesn't wait for Ron to follow.

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><p><strong>x.<strong>

It starts with a kiss.

_(she waits at the airport for nearly four hours when the flight of British Airways finally lands on American soil and she spots him right on, wearing skin-tight dark denim and a white button-down with rolled-up sleeves while his eyes remain hidden behind some RayBan Aviator glasses, and he approaches her with fast steps, takes her face in his hands and she feels his thumbs digging in her jaw and a second later his lips on hers, soft and pink and perfect)_

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><p><strong>xi.<strong>

**love, (n.)**

It starts with you and me


End file.
